Arthur was drinking his black coffee and reading something on his phone. I decided to kiss him because it seemed appropriate. He smiled at me.

I wasn't sure what that meant, what our relationship was, but I didn't want to ask yet. I was happy, he seemed pleased, and I didn't want to fuck things up just yet. Maybe it was a one-time thing, or our relationship was going to remain just physical.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down.

"Is everything alright?"

"They aren't worse than last time, so I guess it's a win." He didn't seem convinced, and I didn't insist.

The day went by like a dream. Arthur didn't talk about Tokyo or his Fabergé egg, or Elsie's party or Sam. We went to museums after closing hours because Arthur wanted to and what Arthur wanted, Arthur got. It was always a pleasure to see him talking and buying his way in.

"L'Origine du Monde," Arthur said, looking at a painting of a woman's private parts.

"He's not wrong," I said.

"There has been a bit of a scandal about the model's identity." Arthur continued. "In the beginning, people thought it was his lover, Joanna Hiffernan, and that's why they broke up. Then people thought it was someone else; some thought the painting had a missing upper half with the face of the woman."

"Was it?" I asked.

"The Musée d'Orsay said no," he said. "Do you think Courbet painted this because he wanted to make a statement, or did he just wanted attention?"

"What's the difference?" I asked, looking at the small plate that gave information about the artist and the painting. "It says here that he rejected academic, idealistic nudes, so maybe the guy wanted to make a change. Or maybe he wanted to stare at a vagina for long periods."

Arthur laughed. "Maybe. I think it's fascinating. We are standing in a place filled with other people's art. Dead people. Hundreds of years ago, someone mixed in colors and applied them on the canvas. These canvases, they have souls. I don't think the painters ever expected them to be worth so much."

"Probably not." I agreed.

"It a room filled with legacies," he said. "When I die, I want a legacy," Arthur continued, "not like this, but I want it to be big."

"What kind?" I asked.

"When you come back from Tokyo, I want you to help me." Arthur looked at me; I felt the absolute need to do whatever he needed me to. I nodded. Of course, I was going to help him.

He kissed me, and it felt as if tens of eyes were watching me. Maybe Arthur was right, and the paintings had souls. And they were watching and judging us. Or maybe they were judging me.

I flew to Tokyo as per instructed and met Tony. He was waiting for me while drinking some sort of strawberry soda. He looked tired, and a bit irritated, and I crossed my mind that he had been there more than he wanted to.

He drove us to a hotel. It wasn't as spectaculars as the one Arthur had, but it was decent. We had separate rooms, and mine had a street view. We were close to the tourist area, and it was filled with lights and people.

I thought about Arthur, and I realize that I couldn't stop thinking about him. I texted him, asking if he was ok and it took two hours for him to answer. I didn't know what he was doing; if he was truly alright.

I could hear the people outside, the cars, the life, but I couldn't bring myself to want to go out. Tony had other plans. He knocked at my door and then walked in without waiting for an answer. I was jetlagged and tired, but he wanted to eat. I was hungry too.

Neither of us wanted to go too far for a late dinner, so we wandered the city, trying every street food available until both of us were full.

"How much do you know about what we're going to do?" He asked.

"Switch an egg. An expensive egg with an expensive fake egg."

"Basically." Tony agreed. "We're going to do it once the guy that has it is at the airport. Hopefully, he won't have it cuffed to his wrist."

"That would be unfortunate." I agreed and checked my phone.

Tony watched me for a second before sighing. "Dude, if you're falling in love, just keep it together until we get this done."

"I'm not falling in love," I said.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Right. So that's why you've been checking your phone all evening. Look, I know King, and I know how he is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I was getting defensive, but I was doing my best not to show it.

"When was the last time you talked to your family or friends?" He asked.

"Ugh…." I couldn't remember.

"When was the last time you thought about them? When was the last time you did anything that did not involve King?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that he gets in your head," he said, tapping his temple. "I don't care what you think your relationship with him is, but we work for him. And for now, we got to get that egg. He wants to gift it."

"What?"

"He wants to gift the egg to a friend. That's what he said."

"You're a bit of jerk." I sighed, and he shrugged.

"It's my particular brand of charm. Some people dig it."

I wanted to tell him that people liked it because he was attractive. After all, he was one leather jacket away from being the bad boy in a Hollywood movie. I didn't want to boost his ego, so I kept my mouth shut.

"I'm tired as hell." He added, rubbing his eyes. "I hate traveling so damn much; I can't tell what time it is anymore."

"You've been in other places before coming here?"

"Yeah," he said. "Spain. And before that, Jamaica. Let's drunk tonight." He proposed and pulled out a card. "Arthur said, and I quote go wild."

"Arthur gave you his credit card."

"Yeah."

"I don't drink. I keep saying that I don't drink."

"Rules don't apply while in another country." He waved the card at me. "And it's King's money. So we can do whatever we want."

"I'd rather go sleep," I said. "You said the egg is for a friend."

"Elsie," he said. "I think you know her." Tony smiled at me. "Are you jealous?"

"No."

"Then why are you frowning like that. I bet Arthur's having fun in Paris."

"You're a prick," I said.

"Just have a drink and forget about King and all those very attractive and very rich men he probably knows. He's in Paris, you're in Tokyo, and rules don't apply."

I took the card from his hand and shoved it in my pocket. I was angry, and thanks to this asshole, I couldn't stop thinking about what Arthur was doing. We had no agreement on being exclusive to each other.

"Fine. We'll go clubbing or whatever. But I'm keeping this."

He smiled.

"Fair enough, pretty boy."

Tony found a club in no time, and I started drinking like it was something I usually did. Three shots of tequila later, I was feeling dizzy and paranoid. I kept checking my phone and kept telling myself I wasn't obsessed with Arthur. I was worried. I also suddenly remembered that he had diabetes, that I've never seen him take his insulin, and that he once ended up in the hospital because of it. I remember he could be fucking someone else, and I would have no idea.

I wasn't falling for Arthur. I didn't want to fall in love with Arthur King.

Tony was making out with some guy not far away, and if Arthur was allowed to mess around and Tony was messing around, then I could do the same thing.

Then I thought that Arthur and Tony had a thing, once. He told me himself, the first time I ever walked into his club. I thought then that Tony was incredibly attractive.

"Fuck it." I drank the rest of my drink and walked towards him. I pushed that guy away, grabbed Tony by the shirt, and kissed him.

We were both drunk, and I was probably going to regret this, but if they could do it, I could do it too.